


Better In Person

by LadyShadowphyre



Series: tumblr prompt basket [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel needs hugs, Episode: s09e11 First Born, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Mentions of Demon Blood, Protective Castiel, Real Kisses Are Better Than Imaginary Phone Calls, Sam Needs Hugs, mentions of Gadreel, mentions of lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyShadowphyre/pseuds/LadyShadowphyre
Summary: Sam has some doubts about reality now that Gadreel's no longer feeding him false memories. Castiel attempts to help him regain some equilibrium.





	Better In Person

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zetal (Rodinia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rodinia/gifts).



> Written for the tumblr kiss prompt #68: A Hoarse Whisper "Kiss Me"! This got restarted twice before I finally got a decent flow going. Sorry for the delay!

**I** T WAS IMPULSE that guided Sam to lean over and hug Castiel in the wake of the failed tracking spell. The urge to try and clear the despair from the angel’s face was nearly overwhelming, and while Sam had a feeling that urge was being fueled largely by the lingering dreams Gadreel had spun to keep Sam calm and quiet and happy, in that moment he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t even blame Castiel for being stiff and uncertain when he did it, not when the last time Castiel had tried to hug him while in his right mind Sam had been too raw and afraid to feel angelic Grace touching his soul to let him. He thought he covered well enough with gently teasing Castiel about hugging back, even thought he’d managed to conceal the flare of panic when Castiel suggested he rest before they get started on the joint efforts to stop Metatron, but apparently borrowed angel mojo was good enough to help Castiel read him like a book.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” Castiel asked, his concerned tone and stern look brooking no dissembling from Sam over the question.

“It’s nothing serious,” Sam tried anyway. Castiel narrowed his eyes, and Sam had to look away. “Really, just... I guess I’m just having some trouble sorting out what’s real and what wasn’t.”

“You are... doubting reality?” Castiel asked carefully. Sam grimaced at the wording, then shrugged and nodded.

“It’s not the same as when I was hallucinating Lucifer,” he promised. “I mean, I’m not seeing anything that isn’t actually there. I think,” he joked. Castiel looked mildly alarmed, so Sam shook his head and pressed on. “Just... When Gadreel was... in control... he dropped me into these dreams....”

“A fairly standard tactic among angels who have taken a vessel,” Castiel said, nodding his understanding.”It is meant to keep our vessels in a positive mental state so that they do not attempt to regain control at an inopportune moment.” Sam winced and Castiel’s eyes widened. “Sam, I’m sorry, I did not mean--”

“No, I know,” Sam interrupted quickly. “And it’s fine. It’s... very different.” He sighed. “Just... because he was trying to keep me from knowing he was there, all the dreams were pretty much indistinguishable from reality, and there were several conversations between me and Dean that I don’t even know if they really happened or not. I, um, I’m guessing that the memories I have of phone conversations with you during that time are false.”

“They are,” Castiel said grimly. “Dean was adamant that I remain separate from you both, I assume on Gadreel’s direction, so I did not attempt to contact either of you, nor did I receive any calls from you.”

“Right,” Sam muttered, scrubbing both hands over his face. Of course that would be the case. Well, he’d just have to work up the nerve to broach some of those subjects a “second” time and hope the answers he received weren’t too dissimilar or negative when answered by the actual Castiel instead of Gadreel’s illusions.  _And hope he’s kind enough not to smite me or laugh in my face..._

“I would not smite you for anything, Sam,” Castiel exclaimed, drawing Sam’s attention sharply to him. The angel’s affronted expression abruptly turned dismayed. “Oh, you... did not say that out loud. I’m sorry...” He trailed off and shook his head, a despondent look crossing his features. “I find myself saying those words to you a lot recently, and each time seems to hold new meaning.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sam refuted, shaking his head as he lowered his hands again. “It's not even Gadreel’s fault, really... I mean, having my head messed with by supernatural beings isn’t a new thing for me, he was just the most recent one to do it.”

“And I am among those who would be listed. How can I help you to believe that this is real, Sam?” Castiel asked earnestly. Sam watched as Castiel’s hands twitched, flexing as if restraining the urge to reach out. He swallowed, closed his eyes briefly, and reached out to take Castiel’s hands in his as he took a metaphorical leap of faith.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, forcing the words past the knot in his throat. “Every time I’ve ever dreamed or hallucinated anything to do with you, I couldn’t...  _feel_ you.”

“Feel me?” Castiel repeated, sounding startled.

“Your Grace,” Sam managed, glancing down at where their hands were joined. “I remember how it felt under your skin when you hugged me and Dean in the hospital... present, like always, but passive since you weren’t using it to heal or fly us somewhere or... anything else.” He saw Castiel’s troubled look growing and hurried on, hoping to bypass the  _other_  times Castiel had used his Grace on him. “Whichever angel you got your current Grace from, it’s... really different from yours. You don’t--”

“I do not feel like myself to your senses, and so you doubt your perception of my presence here with you,” Castiel said. When Sam nodded, he returned the nod almost absently, apparently in thought. “And you have felt my Grace at other times? Before the hospital?”

“Er, yeah... pretty much since the start of the Apocalypse,” Sam confirmed. “Why?”

“I may have a way to help anchor your mind to reality and associate my current Grace with me,” the angel said. He kept hold of Sam’s hands as he stepped closer into Sam’s personal space, stopping only when he felt Sam’s tension increase as the skitter of Grace began to snap across the more raw edges of his soul. “Do you remember, after Famine, when you were going through the demon blood withdrawal?”

“Yeah, you said you stayed outside the door the whole time,” Sam answered curiously, wondering where Castiel was going with this.

“I said that I never left you alone,” Castiel corrected him. Sam frowned, wondering at the distinction, and Castiel went on, “I did leave the place outside the door to Bobby’s panic room, once. I became concerned that your fever had spiked, and entered the room to check more closely that you were still... that I was not mistaken in my hope that you would pull through the withdrawal.”

“So... that was really you?” Sam managed to ask, feeling embarrassment burning his cheeks anew at Castiel’s nod. “You, uh, never mentioned it after....”

“You indicated a desire to not speak of anything that you had seen during your withdrawal,” Castiel said, sounding a little sheepish. “At the time, I believed you meant everything and not just your hallucinated conversations with your family, and then events conspired to ensure that there was never a ‘right time’ to introduce the topic.”

“And this is the right time?” Sam asked, eyebrows rising.

“Probably not,” Castiel said. “However, after so many years and my betrayal of you, I fear there may never be a ‘right time’, and if it will help you to regain some equilibrium....”

“One problem with that,” Sam interrupted, taking a deep breath and steeling himself to push on with the conversation, trying not to hope that it would go better this time than the illusory conversation over the phone had gone. “That, um, event you’re referring to has kind of been played back in my head... um, a lot.”

“And I have gained more experience since that time,” Castiel reminded him. “I would imagine my technique would have changed, even though my feelings have mostly remained the same.”

“Mostly?” Sam couldn’t help but ask.

“Being human, however briefly, has had an extensive effect on me,” Castiel said dryly. His hands flexed, squeezing Sam’s where they were still tangled together, and his eyes dropped briefly to Sam’s mouth. Sam licked his lips, almost on reflex, and swallowed when Castiel echoed the action. “And I confess that I want to, very much... if you will permit me?”

“Kiss me,” Sam whispered, throwing caution to the wind and taking that leap of faith he hadn’t dared let loose ever since that day in the panic room when Castiel had come to him, soothed his fever with a cool hand, and brushed their lips together in a soft and tender kiss that had left Sam near to shaking with awe and need before the blood had taken his mind again.

Castiel was right, Sam thought as the angel answered his request by surging up and sealing their lips together eagerly. His technique had definitely changed.


End file.
